


Panties Ficlet

by lucifers_left_earlobe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:23:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifers_left_earlobe/pseuds/lucifers_left_earlobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request for bottom!Dean getting fingered by Castiel. He's wearing satiny, pink panties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panties Ficlet

Dean slips into the pink, satiny panties, sighing at their sleekness as his leaking cock brushes over the soft fabric.

He’s been on his knees for the past half hour now, Castiel walking circles around him with a pensive frown on his face. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d assume that Castiel was upset with something he did, that perhaps he’s angered his friend in some tantamount way that was likely unavoidable on his end.

But he does know better. Cas just doesn’t know where to start.

Castiel appraises him from every angle imaginable, those all seeing eyes never missing an inch of skin as they hungrily graze over Dean’s body. Just as he’s about to pass before Dean’s front again, he pauses, his eyes homing in on the panties Dean adorns.

“Get on the bed,” he orders, his voice quietly seeping into Dean’s being, pulsing more of his blood into the erection barely being contained by the thin underwear. Dean complies, pushing himself off of the floor and onto his bed, lying on his stomach as he does so. He doesn’t miss the slight hitch Castiel’s breath gives when he spreads his knees over the mattress, keening his spread cheeks in Cas’s direction.

“Like this, Cas?” Dean wiggles his hips a little, smirking when he hears Cas’s breath hitch once more. He _hadn’t_ been imagining it.

“Yeah, just like that, Dean.” Warm hands settle onto Dean’s hips, dragging him into a crouch over Castiel’s lap. A calloused hand skates from his hip to cup the curve of his ass, squeezing slightly before dipping further and further downwards.

Calculating fingers slide down the skin surrounding the hemming of the panties, scratching slightly at the more sensitive flesh between his legs before sliding beneath the smooth fabric and teasing at his hole.

At first, Cas only circles the puckered skin, dragging a lube-slicked fingertip over the little ridges and bumps surrounding Dean’s hole. Goose bumps erupt upon Dean’s skin, the embarrassingly prominent layer coating Dean from head to toe. The drag is _agonizing_ , eliciting pathetic moans from Dean’s lungs, his body convulsing in a series of shivers as Castiel lets his fingers dip into his heat.

And God, it’s a miracle that Dean doesn’t come right then and there.  A tiny moan escapes his lips, his hips thrusting backwards onto _that damn finger_ , nearly hitting his prostate as he does so. Almost immediately, he’s met with repercussions; the finger disappears and an empty chill fills what was once beautifully hot.

“No moaning,” Castiel growls, his voice sharp like a whip. The sharp sting of a spank comes a moment later, bringing those goose bumps back to the surface with a mild yelp. Fingers brush over the sensitive area, and Castiel’s lips hover over his lower back, his breath breezing over soft skin as he glides up Dean’s spine, all of that bare skin brushing against Dean. “It doesn’t hurt too much does it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Cas; fuck me,” Dean mutters, rotating beneath Castiel until they’re nose to nose. Castiel’s mouth is caught in a surprised gasp as Dean bounds up to capture his lips in his own, running his tongue along Cas’s lower lip before pulling away. He reaches for one of Castiel’s hands and drags it between his parted legs. “ _Fuck me.”_

That’s all the motivation Castiel needs. Within a second, Dean is being shoved up to the headboard, a pillow being stuffed beneath his hips.

Castiel bends over Dean once more, this time his mouth working in tandem with his finger as he suckles and nips at Dean’s cock, threatening to burst at any given moment. His tongue swipes along the leaking head as his fingertips brush over Dean’s prostate, and a loud groan tears from Dean’s lungs as the actions synchronize.

Bright blue irises glance up at Dean, spit sleek mouth pulling off of Dean’s dripping cock with an embarrassingly loud pop, a thin trail of saliva leaking from the corner of his mouth. His free hand sneaks up from where it was propping his head up to squeeze the base of Dean’s dick. His other hand ceases all movement, his fingers resting limpid within Dean’s ass.

“I said no moaning,” he murmurs, sliding his hand off of Dean’s cock entirely. Keeping a finger in Dean’s ass, he leans up as much as his position allows, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s collarbone, his moist lips lightly sucking a little bruise into the skin. “No more moaning or I won’t let you come.”

Dean nods full heartedly, already feeling the heat curl in his lower abdomen, threatening to burst from his dangerously hardened member at any given second. Cas’s brows untangle from the middle of his forehead and he scoots backwards until his eyes are level with his fingers, taking keen interest in tearing Dean apart.

And it doesn’t take too much work on Cas’s part; he only has to crook his fingers a few more times before Dean is brought to an almost writhing mess again, his fingers knotting in the sheets, teeth coercing blood from his lower lip to keep from making a sound. Castiel continues in his pursuits, occasionally adding or subtracting a finger as he goes.

Dean thinks he’ll be able to handle it until a warm, wet weight pokes at the loosened skin of his hole, joining the fingers urging Dean to that sweet release, that tantalizing promise that lays only a few more thrusts in the future.

And his predictions were accurate; with the tongue working in conjunction with his fingers; it only takes a few more synchronized thrusts to coerce the hot, sticky fluid from his stiffened member, shooting hot stripes of creamy come onto his chest, small droplets reaching as far as his lower lip. His hips buckle and he can’t help it; he groans through his orgasm, moaning so loudly that he’s surprised Sam hasn’t stormed from his room to admonish them.

Castiel’s fingers keep their movement throughout Dean’s orgasm, quaking and convulsing in time with Dean’s hole, pushing and pulling as Dean shivers and twitches. His free hand wanders its way up Dean’s stomach, massaging little circles into the flexing and loosening muscles. Dean catches the hand and winds his fingers within the fallen angel’s, letting his body collapse into the bed.

Castiel’s fingers slip from Dean’s ass one at a time, each loss leaving him all the more empty. Within a second, Castiel is crawling along Dean’s body, his nose brushing a line over the hairs adorning his groin, the dip of his belly button, the hard bone of his chest, until those swimming, pretty eyes are in direct line with Dean’s, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“How was that?” His nose scrunches from the girth of his smile. Dean can feel his cheeks returning it without preconception.

“It was good, Cas.” Dean lets his hand glide back onto Castiel’s shoulders. His fingers trace a little message into the skin, _I love you_ , and Cas’s eyes widen with the subtle admission. He bounds forward to catch those surprised lips in his own, breaking away after only a second before lying back upon the pillows once more.

“It was good.”


End file.
